Kathryn Knutson
Copyright © 2013 Kathryn Knutson
ISBN 978-0-87839-909-3
All rights reserved.
Cover image: http://www.istock.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First Edition, May 2013
Printed in the United States of America
Published by
North Star Press of St. Cloud, Inc.
P.O. Box 451
St. Cloud, Minnesota 56302
To Mallory Knutson
Thanks for being a fan
Ashleigh
Life was good. Mostly.
Things were settling down for me, anyway. I was fitting in at school. I was getting used to my stepfamily—Carol, my stepmom, and Cassie and Andie, my two stepsisters. I was in LOVE, with the greatest guy I ever met, Josh. And right this moment, Cassie and Ben were taking care of the spirit possessing our woods.
Yes, the woods surrounding our house was possessed. Haunted. Whatever you want to call it. We—meaning Cassie and I—found out about it soon after we moved in here a couple months ago. A ghost in the house . . . an evil spirit in the woods . . . it was my best friend Amber’s dream home. Not necessarily for me, nor for Cassie. So that’s why she and Ben were out there now, hanging some amulets that were supposed to . . . well . . . do something.
I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, the one I shared with Cassie, and held up two different shirts, deciding which one to wear tonight. After Ben and Cassie finished their business, we were all heading to Liz’s house for a party. Our own private homecoming dance, because Dad and Carol banned us from going to the real one. A long story, but it involved having friends over when they were out. So the punishment had been no homecoming—though I feel like it was more a punishment for me than for Cassie. She wasn’t into that kind of stuff. I was bummed because I had had an awesome dress picked out, too, but Dad made me return it. So, instead of wearing my beautiful gown to a dance, I planned to wear pants and a shirt to a house party instead. The important thing though—Josh would be there. That was all that really matters. Of course, I wasn’t positive he liked me back. But I’d heard rumors. And he’d given me looks.
I settled on the navy-blue shirt, and tossed the other one back into the closet. I flopped onto my bed to take a quick nap before the party. I had a feeling we’d be up late. With any luck I’d be able to find out Josh’s real feelings for me. Hopefully he’d make a move or something. Otherwise I’d have to take matters into my own hands.
I buried my head into the pillow and pulled the blankets over my head. But I’d barely closed my eyes before I heard the familiar crunch of tires on gravel.
A car was outside the house.
I sat up and checked out the window. And practically fell off the bed when I saw who it was.
Ben.
What?
But Ben was supposed to be in the woods right now. With Cassie. “Oh, crap,” I said.
This spirit-thing in the woods could take the form of anyone we knew. Which was really creepy. I’d seen it show up as my mom even, and she passed away a couple years ago. Supposedly, the spirit was trying to lure us away from others, trying to get us alone so it could get what it really wanted: one of us. So, if Ben was just pulling into the yard, that could only mean one thing—Cassie was in the woods with the spirit. And she was in danger.
I rushed down the two flights of stairs and flew out the door, colliding with Ben on the front steps.
“Hey, watch it,” he said, jumping backwards. “What’s going on?”
“Cassie—we need to—she’s in the—” I was so flustered, all I could do was point toward the woods.
“Cassie went into the woods?” Ben asked. “Alone?”
I shook my head and took a deep breath. “She went in the woods with you,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes and gave me a puzzled look. “But I’m right here.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh.” And then he got it. “Oh.” He looked towards the trees. “We need to find her. Right now.”
He didn’t even wait for me. He sprinted to the trees, calling out Cassie’s name as he went.
“Cassie!” I shouted, following behind.
Ben plunged into the woods, and I plunged in right after him. I tried to keep up, but he was too fast. A few seconds later and I couldn’t even see him. He’d outrun me, and now I was alone. In the woods.
Our woods was especially creepy at night, but daytime wasn’t much better. By now, the trees had lost most of their leaves, and the dead brown branches rattled against each other like bones. At least the undergrowth had died out, and I could see between the trees—not like in summer, when the woods were thick and green.
A twig snapped a few feet away, and I jumped.
“Ben?” I called. I hugged my arms around myself and wished I wasn’t alone. “Cassie? Anyone?”
Nothing answered except the leaves, rustling and crunching from invisible footsteps. “Don’t be scared,” I said. “Think about Amber. She wouldn’t be afraid.” Another twig snapped, and the wind gusted, rattling the branches again. A crow cawed somewhere above. “It’s like being in a darn horror movie,” I said.
“Ben!” I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Ben!”
I just wanted to hear his voice, know that he was somewhere ahead of me. Still no answer. I walked faster.
But something followed me.
The crunching and rustling of dead leaves kept pace with me. I stopped. The noise stopped. “Who’s there?” I called.
A squirrel darted across the path. “Stupid squirrel,” I muttered. Why did animals always jump out at just the right moment and terrify people? It was like they had a sixth sense for that kind of thing.
I started to jog. The sooner I found Ben, the better. I prayed he was ahead, at the pond. Cassie too. And that Cassie would be . . . well . . . Cassie. I prayed that Ben found her in time. And that nothing would happen to me. Could the spirit sense I was in the woods? Would it abandon Cassie and decide it would want me instead? I shivered and jogged faster.
“Cassie!” Ben’s voice called out from farther down the trail. “Cassie!”
And then—a scream. Cassie’s scream.
I ran the rest of the trail and burst into the clearing around the pond. Cassie sat on the log, staring out at the pond.
“Are you okay?’ Ben asked her. “I heard you scream.”
“I’m fine,” Cassie replied.
Ben stared at her. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You shouldn’t have come out here alone.” He leaned closer, inspecting her face. “Your eyes—they look different.”
My stomach dropped to my toes. Her eyes. Different. It could only mean one thing—we were too late.
“I’m fine,” Cassie said again, her expression flat.
I didn’t wait to hear more. I turned and ran back to the house. Okay, maybe I was a bit of a coward. I figured Ben could handle it, and I had to let Amber know what happened. Plus, I didn’t really want to see Cassie’s eyes.
I am not—I repeat, NOT—sleeping in that room with her,” I said. I crossed my arms in front of me and glared at my dad.
“Ashleigh, please,” he said. He gave me a pleading look, one I knew too well. Pleading with me to let him win the argument—let him show everyone that he was boss. He’d used that look ever since he got married to Carol.
“No, Dad,” I said. I held my hand up, too, just for good measure. He wouldn’t win this time. Even if Carol was watching from the kitchen table. “I’ll sleep on the couch down here. I don’t care. I’ll sleep in Andie’s room. I’ll even sleep outside. But I’m not sleeping in the same room as . . . as . . .” I paused, wanting to say that thing but instead I finished, “. . . as her.”
Dad heaved in a deep breath of air, his chest expanding like a balloon until I thought it would pop, but he let the air out again with a loud sigh. “Don’t be ridiculous. Whatever is going on between you two, I’m sure we can work it out.”
I snorted and shook my head, wishing it was something we could just work out. “I’m sleeping on the couch,” I said, marching into the family room. I plopped myself down on the cushions and stretched my feet out. “It’s perfectly comfortable,” I called. But the couch was too hard and I knew my neck would get a kink in it if I slept here. Still, it was better than the alternative. Better than sleeping in my bedroom with that thing in the other bed.
Carol and my dad whispered to each other in the kitchen. I stared at the cracks in the ceiling, thinking about how my evening had been ruined. I should have spent it at Liz’s house, right now dancing with Josh, feeling his arms around me and resting my head on his shoulder. But Cassie had ruined everything. Ben dragged her back from the woods. She had walked as if in a dream, all the way up to the bedroom, and lain on her bed. She hadn’t moved since. She hadn’t talked either. Not one peep since the woods. Ben had sat by her for a full hour while I watched from my own bed, neither of us knowing what to do. She had just stared at the ceiling, and I swear I didn’t see her blink once. Not human, that’s what it was.
Of course I couldn’t tell Dad and Carol the truth about anything. They wouldn’t believe it anyway. I suppose they just assumed something had happened between Cassie and Ben and me, and now Cassie was in a funk.
“Fine,” Dad said from the entryway, interrupting my thoughts. “You can sleep down here tonight. But that’s it. One night. Tomorrow you two work out whatever is going on and you sleep in the bedroom again.”
I folded my arms across my chest but didn’t say anything. I had won the battle tonight. I would worry about tomorrow night when it came. But long term I might just have to move out. Amber would take me in. I knew she would. Her mom was a second mom to me, and for the longest time Amber and I had plotted how to get our parents to date. We had planned on having them marry and move in together. Then Amber and I would be sisters. That was all before Carol came along.
Dad came over to the couch, and I shifted my feet so he could sit down. “Listen, Ash,” he started, “I know things haven’t been easy. I admit that. It’s been hard moving out here and having to make new friends, start a new school, plus get used to a new family. I understand that.” He paused to scratch his beard—his little nervous tic. Whatever he was about to say was making him uncomfortable. I took a deep breath and prepared myself. “I was a teenager once,” he continued, resting his hand awkwardly on my foot, “and I know trying to navigate the world of dating and boys—”
“Hold it right there,” I said, bolting upright and jerking my foot away. “This is so not about boys, Dad.” The last thing I needed right now was a father-daughter moment about boys and dating and, God forbid, a talk about the birds and the bees.
“I just wish you would tell me what’s going on,” he said, hurt in his voice. “You used to tell me everything, remember?”
“That’s when I was twelve, Dad. Things are different now. Besides, this isn’t something you’d understand.”
“You might be surprised.”
No, you’re the one who would be surprised, I thought. There was no way I could tell him what was going on. What was I supposed to say— something evil has been haunting the woods, and now it has possession of Cassie and is in our house right now? He would spaz—only because he would think I had gone crazy. No, there was no way I could tell him anything. “Just forget it, please?” I begged. “We’ll work this out.” I didn’t know how, but we had to. Amber and Doctor Barry and my friends at school—somehow we would fix this.
“Just be sure that you do,” he said, reaching over and patting my leg. He gave a satisfied nod, as if we had accomplished something, then stood up. “Remember, this is only for tonight,” he added, gesturing to the couch.
“Whatever,” I replied. There was no way I was sleeping in my bed, not as long as Cassie was . . . whatever she was. They would have to drag me kicking and screaming if they wanted me in my bedroom. I stretched out on the couch again and knew tomorrow would be a big fight. I’d have to prepare myself—things could get ugly.
It was only a little after nine, but Dad and Carol had announced they were going to bed early. Dad had already disappeared up the steps, but Carol stood in the entryway, her face pinched with worry. I knew she was all freaked out about what was going on with Cassie. Carol had probably never seen her like this before. I’m sure she thought Cassie was just being dramatic about something. “Here’s a blanket for you,” she said quietly. She stepped into the room and lay a blanket on the arm of the couch.
“Thanks,” I said, not meeting her eyes. She probably thought that whatever was going on with Cassie was partly my fault too.
She stood there for a moment, gazing at me as if she wanted to say something more. I braced myself. I still wasn’t sure about Carol. And I thought she wasn’t sure about me. We were still trying to figure each other out. Finally she gave a little shake of her head and walked away. She flicked the kitchen light off, and I was left in the dark, the glow of the stove light my only company. I immediately pulled my phone out and texted Amber. U there? I asked.
A few seconds later came her reply. U in ur room?
No way, I texted back. Couch.
Dr B says he can help, she wrote. Doctor Barry—I had to admit, he hadn’t helped much so far, but I trusted Amber. Besides, he was our only hope at this point.
When?! The sooner the better.
Soon, she texted back. I sighed. Not good enough for me. Tell him to hurry. This is a 911! I wrote. It was easy enough for Doctor Barry to say “soon.” He didn’t have to be under the same roof with it.
Next wkend? Can u get rid of ’rents again?
No prob, I replied. Getting rid of my dad and Carol should be easy. I’d done it before. And I was desperate—enough to take drastic measures and do whatever it took. But Dad had been putting his foot down more and more lately, ever since he and Carol got married. If it wasn’t for her, it would be easy to convince Dad to leave when I wanted him to. Of course, if it wasn’t for Carol, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place, living in the middle of nowhere with a possessed stepsister.
GTG, Amber texted. I set my phone on the end table, then covered myself with the blanket. I nestled against the back of the couch and faced the room, suddenly aware of the darkness. The light on the stove gave off an eerie green glow, but it didn’t seep as far as this room. Still, I’d rather be here than up in my bedroom with . . . could I still even say Cassie? It was probably still staring at the ceiling right now, it’s dark eyes open and unblinking. Creepy. I shivered, pulled the blanket up to my chin, closed my eyes, and tried not to think about it.
I must have fallen asleep, because suddenly the crash of thunder woke me up. A loud, rolling thunder that made the walls of the house shake and the plates rattle in the kitchen. The dark was so thick I couldn’t even tell if my eyes were open or shut. The stove light didn’t glow anymore—the power must have gone off. I scooted myself up on my butt and reached back for my cell phone, feeling around on the table until my fingers touched it. I grabbed it and clicked a button, glad for a little light. The clock read 1:17 in the morning. And now I was wide awake. A burst of lightning flashed through the room, then another crash of thunder sounded, so close that I even felt the couch vibrate. I couldn’t sleep, not in this storm, so I might as well do some research.
I opened the Internet on my phone and typed in possession, just to see what I could find. I sighed and tapped the phone impatiently while I waited. “Come on, come on,” I muttered, waiting for the screen to load. Finally some stuff came up about devils and demons, but it didn’t sound like what had happened in our case. Still, reading all the stories people posted gave me the chills. Someone posted about a girl who spoke in a male voice and whose head almost spun around backwards. If Cassie started doing that I swear I’d move out for sure.
As I read, I got more and more creeped out. But not just from the stories. Or the constant thunder and lightning outside. Something else bothered me. The feeling that something was watching me. I couldn’t see anything in the inky blackness surrounding me. I felt smothered.
I turned my attention to the phone, trying to concentrate on the words. People being possessed—not the best thing to be reading in the middle of a stormy night when the power was out. Am I nuts? I thought. Find something else to do. I quickly typed in Josh’s Facebook page, and scrolled through some of his pictures instead. That’s better.
But the next flash of lighting lit up the room, and in that quick second I saw something out of the corner of my eye. A shadow. At the kitchen table.
I froze, not wanting to move my eyes from the phone. Maybe I just imagined it. All this stuff about possessions finally got to me. But I was lying to myself. I had seen something. Out of the corner of my eyes, maybe, but I knew. Someone sat at the kitchen table. My heart pounded, a hammer beating against my ribs. I slowly brought my phone down to my churning stomach and dared to look towards the kitchen.
In the darkness I could barely make out the silhouette of a figure seated on the chair, facing me. The Cassie-thing. I imagined I could see its eyes, black fire burning in the dark.
I sat there for a second, not taking my eyes off it, trying to catch my breath. It came in quick, shaky gasps. What the heck did it want? I wondered. For some reason, the answer that popped into my head was It wants you. Not the answer I wanted to tell myself. I jumped up from the couch, entangling myself in the blankets and crashing to the floor. “Stupid, dumb blanket. Get off me,” I said, yanking my legs free. I blindly walked towards the stairs, hands out in front of me, hoping I was headed in the right direction.
Another flash of lighting showed me I was in the kitchen, the stairs straight ahead. Cassie still sat at the table, but in that brief moment of light I saw her head had turned towards me, as if she watched me in the dark.
I scooted towards the stairs as quickly as I dared. I wasn’t sure what my plan was once I actually reached them. I wasn’t going to go to my bedroom. Cassie might follow me there. But there weren’t many other options of where to go.
My toe slammed against something hard—the bottom step. Thank God, I thought. But I had only taken one step up when I felt an icy hand on my arm, grabbing me, pulling me back. So this is what it feels like to die of fright, I thought, as my heart stopped for a moment.
I don’t know if I screamed. I don’t think I had time. In the next instant, lightning lit up the room again, and I saw a pair of clear blue eyes looking at me.
“Cassie?” I asked, confused. “Is that you?” The eyes—they had been blue, not black. Blue—her eyes.
“Help me,” she whispered, her voice groaning as though she were forcing the words out.
“What?” I asked, barely able to form the word in my mouth.
“Go!” she croaked, louder this time, pushing me onto the stairs. I didn’t have to be told twice. I scrambled up the steps, banging my shins the whole way up but not caring, and sprinted down the hall to the bathroom, lunging inside and locking the door behind me.
The bathroom wasn’t such a bad place to spend the night. Some soft towels laid on the floor made a great mattress, and another on top served as the perfect blanket. That’s what I told myself, anyway. In truth it was horrible and uncomfortable and it smelled because my head was by the toilet, but I didn’t dare put my head near the door. I kept having visions of Cassie’s fingers reaching under the door, trying to grab me. The worst thing was I left my phone downstairs. I couldn’t even text Amber.
The nightlight near the sink threw a little light in the room. I turned onto my side and tried to get comfortable, but the stupid towels kept bunching up and the hard floor pressed against my hip. Still, my eyes slowly closed, flying open again when the sound of pounding woke me up. Someone was knocking on the door.
“I’m coming,” I grumbled, struggling to my feet. I put my hand on the knob, then stopped. What if it was Cassie? “Who is it?” I asked, my voice wavering.
“It’s Dad.”
I cracked the door open.
“So, you’re up early, too,” he greeted me.
“Too?”
“Cassie’s already downstairs. Didn’t you see her?”
Oh, yeah, I saw her all right, I wanted to say. I wondered if she’d stayed at the table all night long, just staring into the darkness. The thought gave me shivers.
“Why are there towels on the floor?” Dad frowned at the mess in the bathroom. “You didn’t sleep in here, did you?”
“Of course not. Why would I sleep in the bathroom?” I rolled my eyes and tossed my head a bit, just to show him how ridiculous he was being. That was my usual tactic when I lied—show the other how stupid the truth was. It usually worked, and it worked this time.
“Just clean up this mess before Carol gets up,” my dad said, then trudged back to his bedroom.
“Don’t you need to use the bathroom?” I called after him.
“I was just checking on you,” he said with a wave of his hand. Of course, today was Sunday. He and Carol always slept late on Sundays.
He shut the door behind him, and suddenly I was alone again. Andie’s door was still closed. And the thing was downstairs. Waiting for me. I didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to look at it. But part of me was curious—would Cassie come back? Would I see her blue eyes again, and be able to talk to her? Then I remembered her words from last night—Help me. She was in there, somehow. I had to figure out a way to get her back again.
I climbed the steps to my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I wished it had a lock. I flattened my back against the door and glanced around the room. A creepy feeling lingered in the air, but nothing seemed out of place. Cassie’s bed didn’t even look like it had been slept in. The covers were perfectly smooth, as if she hadn’t spent most of last afternoon and evening lying on it.
My own bed looked just right for sleeping in. I could take a nap. Just a little one. It was still early, only seven in the morning.
I crept over to my bed, the feeling that something watched me getting stronger. Even before I got to my bed, I could see something on my pillow. A piece of paper. No, a card. A business card. I took a few more steps. The card had a little blue moon printed in the corner and blue stars scattered across the top. A couple more steps and I leaned forward and saw the name printed on it. Sarah Meier. Printed below her name in curvy letters was the phrase A Mystical Experience.
The Blue Moon—the store Cassie had told me about. And that woman, Sarah, had offered to help get rid of that thing. Of course, it was too late now. Or was it? Maybe she could still help somehow. Who had put the card on my pillow? It could only have been one person. Cassie. When had she done it? It hadn’t been there last night when I went downstairs for the evening. I remembered those brief moments in the middle of the night with Cassie. She had been herself then. I had looked into her eyes. She had asked me for help. But how had she been Cassie one moment and not the next? I had too many questions. I picked up the card, the paper soft between my fingers. At least I knew where to get some answers. Now all I had to do was find a way to get there. I’d have to beg Dad later, give him my usual routine. But first I needed to sleep.
I crawled into bed and stared at the wall next to me. I still had the creepy feeling that I was being watched. I’d had that feeling in this room before—when Gina was around. But we’d gotten rid of her, hadn’t we? At least, she seemed to go away on her own. But maybe she hadn’t. Maybe she was still here.
“Go away!” I said to the room, trying to make my voice loud and strong. “Leave me alone.” Amber said that would work sometimes. It intimidated the spirits or something. I closed my eyes and covered my head with the blanket and imagined the feeling of being watched going away.
The sound of pounding on the door woke me up for the second time that morning. “I’m coming!” I shouted. The clock read 10:15. I’d slept almost three hours. I walked to the door but didn’t open it. I couldn’t open any door now without knowing who was on the other side first. “Who is it?” I asked.
“Andie,” came the reply. Andie. My other stepsister. She never came up here. What did she want? I opened the door just enough to let her slip inside, then I shut it again.
“Yeah? What is it?” I knew it sounded mean, but I wasn’t in the mood to care. In truth, Andie wasn’t so bad—for a stepsister anyway. She kept to herself mostly.
“What did you do to Cassie?” Her eyes looked at me accusingly.
I take that back. Andie could be annoying sometimes. “So it’s my fault, is it?” Everyone always has to blame me. I’m the evil stepsister.
“So there is something wrong with her. I knew it. What happened to her?”
“You wouldn’t even begin to understand.”
“I’m not like Dave and Mom.”
I looked her up and down. Maybe she wasn’t like our parents. But still, I didn’t know if I could trust her. She might go to her mom with the story and then I would probably get in trouble. “She’ll be fine. She’s just not feeling like herself right now.” Not completely a lie.
Andie narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re hiding something from me. I can feel it. I know—”
She stopped, and I knew why. The air in the room had suddenly gone cold. Freezing cold. Goose bumps broke out on my skin. Instinctively, I turned around, though my mind screamed at me not to. Too late.
A woman stood before me—a young woman. She looked only a few years older than me. Her dark hair hung forward and almost covered her pale face. Could this be Gina? I’d never seen her before, only Cassie had. I felt a strange thrill that I was seeing her now. But if this was Gina she wore strange clothing—it looked like she had on a long white night gown.
The woman walked towards the closet and just before she got to the door she turned and looked at us. No, she looked at me. Her black eyes burned into mine. Then a moment later she disappeared into the closet.
I suddenly realized that Andie’s hands were gripping my arm. I shook her loose. “Did you . . .” She couldn’t finish.
“I saw it,” I said. I breathed in and out slowly, letting my heart stop pounding.
“Who . . . what . . . ?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it gone?”
I stared at the closet. Andie looked up at me and gave me a nudge.
“What?”
“Go see if it’s gone.”
I didn’t move. There was no way I wanted to open that door. “It’s gone,” I said, nodding and trying to sound sure.
“Don’t you want to know? I mean, it could pop out at any time.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. But I took a few steps towards the closet. I didn’t want to look like a chicken in front of Andie. A few more steps, and I faced the doors. I inched my hands forward until they touched the handles. I had visions of the ghost jumping out at me as soon as I opened the doors.
Something brushed my arm and I screamed.
“It’s just me,” Andie said from behind. “I want to see. Open it.”
“I’m getting there,” I said. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and flung open the doors.
“Oh, my God!” Andie cried.
“What?” My eyes flew open.
“You’re closet’s a mess.”
“Very funny.”
“My mom would kill you if she saw it.”
“Well, she doesn’t see it” I said, and snapped the doors shut again. “You should be getting back to your room. Don’t you have something to do? Homework, maybe?” I wanted to call Amber as soon as possible and tell her what had just happened.
“What about . . . you know . . . what we saw?”
“What about it?”
“Shouldn’t we tell Mom and Dave? Don’t you think they’d want to know?”
“They’d have a perfectly good explanation for it. They’d say we were making it up, or hallucinating, or under a lot of stress or something.” They were good at coming up with new, creative explanations for anything strange that happened in the house.
“Still, I think they should know. Maybe it has something to do with Cassie.”
“You can’t tell them, okay? Just forget about it.”
“You want me to forget I saw a ghost? A real, live ghost in your room?”
I sighed. “Fine. Then just let it be our little secret, okay? Sisters always have secrets they keep from their parents.”
Andie’s face brightened. “Okay,” she said, and nodded and smiled. Then her face fell. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared. What if they ask why I can’t go to sleep at night?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” I said. I put my hands on her shoulders, turned her towards the door and gave her a little push. “Besides, the ghost was in my room, not yours.” I opened the door and gave her a final shove out. “I’m the one who should be scared,” I said, then shut the door.
You won’t believe what just happened to me.” I held my phone to my ear. I had rescued it from the living room and now sat on my bed, talking to Amber.
Amber gave me a loud, long yawn in reply.
“Come on, Amber, wake up. This is serious.”
“Okay, okay. But I was in the middle of some serious astral meditation.”
“What I have to say is more important.”
“Fine, out with it. What happened?”
“I saw a ghost,” I said.
I held the phone away from my ear as Amber squealed on the other end. “A ghost! This is so totally incredible. I can’t believe this.” She paused, and suddenly her voice was tinged with pride. “Your first ghost. I mean, besides your mom, but that doesn't count. You’re not a spirit virgin anymore.”
“Yeah, great.” Amber had wanted me to see a ghost since I’d met her. In fact, that’s how I met her. She’d walked up to me at school one day, a few months after my mom died.
“I can help you get in contact with your mom, if that’s your thing,” she’d said.
And, to my surprise, it was my thing. I desperately wanted to hear from my mom. A few sessions later and Amber and I were best friends. Everyone wondered why. I knew Cassie thought we were an odd couple. But in truth, Amber got me, and I got her. And she helped me deal with my mom’s death—she was the only one who had.
“Tell me more. What did it want? What did it do? Were you scared?”
“Of course I wasn’t scared,” I lied. “It was no big deal.”
“What did it look like?”
“It was female, with long hair. It wore a long, white dress. More like a nightgown. And it just . . . walked into the closet. That’s it.”
“The closet. Weird.”
“Do you think it’s Gina? Maybe she’s back.”
“Maybe . . . I don’t know.” I could almost hear Amber frowning and twisting her mouth back and forth, trying to figure it out. “I think it’s time we did an EVP session.”
“Eeveepee, right.” I mentally scanned through all the different terms Amber had used. I couldn’t remember her using “eeveepee” before.
“EVP. Electronic Voice Phenomena, remember?”
“EVP, of course. I knew what you meant. Refresh my memory again?”
“Talking ghosts,” Amber said, matter-of-factly. “They talk all the time, we just can’t hear them. But you can capture their voices on recorders.”
Capture a ghost’s voice on a recorder? I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
“So what, we just plant some recorders around my bedroom and wait for the ghost to talk to us?” I asked.
“No, we have a session. We ask the ghost specific questions, then we listen to the recording and hear the answers.”
It sounded creepy. But I had to go along with whatever Amber said—she was the expert. “So when do we do this session?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Today?”
“Can’t,” Amber said. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s Monday. I have school, remember? So do you.” Somehow, school didn’t seem to matter to Amber when anything with ghosts was involved.
“Pretend you’re sick. It’s actually better if it’s just you and me. The less noise, the better.”
I sucked in a deep breath of air. I could fake being sick—that would be easy. “Fine, tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there at ten,” Amber said. “How’s Cassie?”
Her sudden question caught me off guard. “She’s . . . weird.” I shivered again, remembering her sitting at the table, staring at me in the dark. “But something happened last night. She came downstairs in the middle of the night, and for a second she was . . . herself again. Her eyes were normal.”
“She still hasn’t turned yet,” Amber said.
“Turned? She’s not a vampire.”
“What did she say?” Amber asked.
“Help me.”
“She definitely hasn’t turned yet. She’s fighting whatever’s inside her.”
Dad’s voice suddenly called up the stairs, yelling for me to eat breakfast. “I have to go,” I said to Amber. “But I’ll plan on seeing you tomorrow.”
“I’ll bring the recorder,” Amber said.
I turned off the phone and sat for a moment, staring at the closet. A shudder rippled through my body again, as I remembered the ghost disappearing through the doors only a few minutes ago.
“Ashleigh!” Carol’s voice shouted up the stairs.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I muttered.
I stepped down the two flights of stairs and into the kitchen. Cassie sat at the table, in the same exact spot she had last night. I wondered if she’d even moved. She stared at the French toast in front of her, holding a knife in one hand and a fork in the other, poised above the plate. Not a muscle in her body moved. Even her eyes were unblinking. She was a perfect statue.
“Aren’t you hungry, honey?” Carol asked. She put a tentative hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “Dave made breakfast especially for you. He knows how much you love French toast.” She smiled and spoke sweetly, but I could detect the tightness in her face and her hand shaking, ever so slightly.
Cassie sat motionless for a few moments. Then her head slowly cranked to the right, and her eyes stared blankly at Carol.
“Cassie?” Carol held the back of her hand to Cassie’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay? You’re a bit warm. And—” she paused, and leaned in for a closer look. “Your eyes. They look . . . strange.”
Carol reached out her hand and suddenly Cassie came to life. She growled and snapped her teeth at Carol’s hand, as if she were a wolf. Her lips curled back, and she snarled, a low growl that rumbled deep in her throat. Carol jerked her hand away and backed up a few steps.
“What’s wrong with you?” she said, her tone a mixture of surprise, anger, and fear.
Cassie’s head shifted to the left and her eyes rolled back to the plate of food as if nothing had happened.
Carol glanced at me. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching the entire scene. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” Carol said, and she gave me a pleading look, begging me for any information.
Some demon’s gotten into her, that’s what, I wanted to scream at her. But instead I merely shrugged my shoulders and kept my eyes glued to the floor. I didn’t like the helpless look in Carol’s eyes.
The front door suddenly opened, and Dad came in from outside. “Hey, you’re finally up,” he said, spotting me. He turned to Cassie. “How’s breakfast?” he asked in a jovial tone. He reached out his hand, as if to touch her on the shoulder, but Carol opened her eyes wide and gave him a quick shake of her head. “Okay,” he said, letting his hand drop to his side. “Well, I found out what the problem is. One of the hinges is broken.”
“Problem?” I asked. “What problem?”
“The garage door,” he replied. “It’s been hanging at an angle. You haven’t noticed?”
“Dad, please. I don’t pay attention to stuff like that.”
Dad shook his head. “I think I’ll head into town, see if I can buy another hinge and fix it today. Don’t want any animals taking shelter in the garage when winter comes.”
“Town?” I said. “What town?”
“St. Cloud.”
My lucky break. I could go to the Blue Moon at the mall and talk to Sarah. “I’m coming with,” I said, scrambling up the steps without waiting for a reply. I flew into my room, tore off my pajamas, slipped into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and threw my hair into a ponytail. I didn’t bother with makeup. “Ready?” I asked, pounding down the stairs and out the front door.
Time to get some answers.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” Dad said.
“You said that four times already,” I replied. I climbed out of the car and shut the door. But Dad wasn’t done yet. He rolled down the car window. “An hour, exactly,” he called after me. “Right at this spot. I don’t want to go looking for you.”
I walked away, pretending I didn’t know him, but I gave a wave of my hand behind my back to let him know I’d heard. A cute mall security guard stood near the doors, smirking. He’d probably heard my dad. I swear, my dad went out of his way to embarrass me.
I opened the door to the mall, and stood in the large entryway, wondering which way to go. The mall wasn’t huge, but it could take me at least fifteen minutes to walk the circular loop, plus explore the little hallways that jutted out to the sides. I couldn’t waste fifteen minutes. And I didn’t want to look at the mall guide, like an idiot. So I looked right, then left, and figured left would be the way to go.
As I walked I texted Amber again. I’d texted her twice on the ride, and even given her a call, but she hadn’t responded. I was hoping she’d meet me here, help me find out what I could from Sarah. Plus, I wanted her to meet Sarah and give me her impression. U there? I asked, my fingers quickly typing in the letters. I waited, but no response.
I stuck my phone back in my pocket, then swiveled my head left and right as I walked, looking for the Blue Moon. No luck, and I’d already walked one entire side. I came to a T, and glanced to the small hallway on the left. Nope, no Blue Moon. I struck off to the right, on the second leg of the loop. I passed Clover, my favorite clothing store, and had to tear myself away from a cute blouse hanging on a front rack. The cute stuff was always right out front, tempting me.
On the third leg I found it. Blue Moon, smack between Marcy’s Cards and Gifts and Locker Room Shoes. I made a beeline for the entrance, and glanced at my watch. I still had fifty minutes left. Plenty of time.
A strong and sickeningly sweet scent of incense smacked me in the nose as soon as I entered the store. It hung in the air, thick and heavy. I tried not to breathe in too deeply, and peeked around the shop. Piled on tables and shelves were every kind of new age item Amber had ever shown me, plus ones I’d never seen before. Tarot cards and angel cards were displayed on a bookshelf in front of me, crystals decorated a table to my left, and a turntable of dried herbs was to my right.
At the back of the store a woman with long brown hair spoke to another woman with spiky, pitch-black hair. I wondered which one was Sarah.
“These candles are perfect for healing spells,” the woman with long hair said. “The dark blue are best for medical healing, and the light blue for spiritual healing.” She noticed me at the front of the store and gave me a nod and a smile. Definitely Sarah.
I waited impatiently near the counter, pretending to be interested in some spirit-guide books. I tapped my foot and sighed loudly, hoping to hurry the spiky-haired girl out of the store. But she was taking forever, asking about which candle to burn for this and which spell to say for that. I glanced at my watch every few seconds, and drummed my fingers loudly on the counter. Another look at my watch and I realized I only had forty minutes left. Time to take some action.
I walked up to Sarah and Spiky-haired girl. “Excuse me,” I said, “but I don’t have a lot of time, and I have some questions. Some very important questions,” I added when the girl threw me a dirty look.
“Of course.” Sarah turned to me and smiled. She was older than I thought she’d be, probably late forties—judging by streaks of gray in her hair—but her face was even and smooth. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked the girl.
The girl scrunched up her face and pursed her lips. “I did have a few more questions,” she said, and gave me another nasty look.
“Why don’t I give you some time to think, and then I’ll come back in a few minutes.”
“Actually, I’ll just come back later.” She hitched her purse on her shoulder and sashayed out of the store.
Good riddance, I thought, watching the girl leave. Sarah smiled and shook her head. “How can I help you?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out her business card—I had stuffed it into my pocket before dashing out the door. “You gave this to my stepsister,” I said, holding out the card. “Cassie. She was here last week. You gave her some necklaces—amulets—to protect us from whatever was in our woods.”
“Ah, yes, I remember,” Sarah said, understanding dawning on her face. “The Malitus.”
“Right,” I said. I remembered Cassie using the word before.
Sarah’s brow suddenly furrowed. “Has something happened?”
“The worst,” I replied. “That thing tricked Cassie into going in the woods and now she’s—she’s—she’s not Cassie anymore.”
“I see.” Sarah’s face looked grim. “When did this happen, exactly?”
“Just last night.”
“Good. We still have time.”
“Time?”
“What are your sister’s symptoms?” Sarah asked, ignoring my question.
“Her symptoms? I don’t know what you mean.”
“How is she behaving?”
“Weird. It’s like she’s in a trance or something. Last night she was up in the middle of the night, just sitting at the table in the dark. She barely talks. She did ask for my help, though.”
“She asked you for help?”
I nodded. “For just a moment last night she was herself again. She asked for help and . . . I think she left this for me.” I held up Sarah’s business card.
“This is good. This is very good. It means she’s not been fully possessed yet.” Sarah must have seen a confused look on my face, because she explained further. “When someone is possessed, there is a period of time when the person’s spirit and the possessed spirit fight for control of the body. Your sister is still fighting. But for how much longer, I cannot say.”
“What happens if . . . ?” I couldn’t finish the question. And Sarah couldn’t seem to answer. She just shook her head. “So what now? What do we do? How do we get it out?” I noticed I was saying “we.” I hoped Sarah didn’t mind.
“You need to find the name of this particular Malitus,” Sarah replied. “A name is very powerful. Only with the name can you call it forth and expel it. I can’t help you without the name.”
“Its name? How am I supposed to find that?” I guessed I wouldn’t be able to just walk up and ask it.
“Someone has to know its name. Someone called it.”
“Gina and the others,” I said, nodding. Josh or Ben or one of the girls would know.
“Maybe,” Sarah said. “But I think your friends’ encounter with the spirit was not the first one.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the spirit has been in your woods a long time. Waiting for just the right moment.”
“You think Gina wasn’t the one who called it? It was already there?”
“I don’t know,” Sarah said. “The spirit—as your sister described it—it seemed powerful. Too powerful for it to be the first time. Something gave it that power. It’s name has been called before. But maybe I’m wrong. Talk with your friends.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Find the name,” she said.
I glanced at my watch. Time to go. “Thanks for your help. I’ll call you soon,” I said. I was confident I’d find the name. One of my friends had to know—they were all at the little ceremony they’d performed to contact Grant.
I left the store and walked back to meet Dad. On the way my phone beeped. A text from Amber. Tomorrow won’t work 4 EVP, she texted. Tuesday?
Fine, I texted back. All the better. I needed to go to school and talk to my friends. I had a name to find out.
It was supposed to be Cassie’s driving day. But she wasn’t in any condition to drive. I didn’t think she was in any condition to go to school, either.
“How are you feeling today, honey?” Carol tentatively put her hand on Cassie’s shoulder. Cassie didn’t respond. She stared at the bowl of cereal on the table before her. “Are you going to eat your breakfast before you go?”
No response.
“Maybe she should stay home from school today,” I said. I had already eaten and was waiting by the door, ready to go. A first for me—I’ll admit, I’m usually running late. But when you sleep on the bathroom floor, you’re up early. I’d had to wait until Dad and Carol went to bed, then I’d snuck into the bathroom and spent the night tossing and turning on a set of towels. Still, it was better than sleeping in the bedroom with the Cassie-thing.
Carol put her hand on Cassie’s forehead. “She doesn’t have a fever,” she said. She quickly removed her hand, as if afraid Cassie would snap at her again. “Cassie? Are you feeling better?”
Cassie blinked her eyes, slowly, holding them closed for a moment before opening them again. I swear it was the first time I’d seen her blink. Then she slowly twisted her head towards Carol, her mouth working as if she was trying to say something. Finally, the words “I’m fine,” croaked from between her lips in a low, gravelly voice. They were the first words she’d spoken since the woods, besides the “Help me” message. But she’d been herself then, if only for a moment. She definitely wasn’t herself now. And strange that “I’m fine” seemed to be the only words she could say.
But the words were enough for Carol. Her pinched face melted into relief. “Good,” she said. “It’s almost time for school. You could take my car today—” Carol paused, and I opened my mouth to protest. No way I was getting in the car with the Cassie-thing driving. Luckily, Carol continued. “—but I think it would be better if you took the bus. Is that okay?”
No response.
Andie bounded down the stairs, jacket and backpack on. “I’m ready to go,” she said.
Something seemed to stir in Cassie. She lifted her head, slowly, looking at Andie, then turned her eyes on me. Her eyes were black, a deep black, like the sky without stars. I didn’t like to look at them. “Are you ready, Cassie?” I asked, swallowing a lump in my throat. I had to find the name of whatever was in her, and soon.
Cassie stood, inch by inch. Every movement she made was slow now, as if she were learning to have control of her body. She’d be lucky to make it to the end of the driveway in time to catch the bus. The driveway was half a mile long, and took more than five minutes to walk.
“Why don’t I drop you off at the bus stop?” Carol said, seeming to read my mind. She grabbed the keys off the hook and glanced at Cassie. “It’ll save you the walk.” Even Carol noticed how slow Cassie was.
The wait for the bus was uneventful. Cassie stared at the fields across the highway. Andie played with the zipper on her backpack. And I kicked at the gravel on the driveway. The October mornings were cold now, and the wind whipped at my hair. But God forbid I put my hood on. Instead I ducked my head down and wished for the bus to hurry.
On the way to school I concentrated on how to find out the name. That was my mission today. I didn’t want to talk about it at lunch—not with Cassie around. And there wasn’t another way to gather our group together between classes. I’d have to talk to them all individually. And I’d start with Josh.
“I need to talk to you,” I said when I saw him in the hall at school. I grabbed his arm, pulled him away from his locker and guided him away from the crowd.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“You mean something more than what’s already happened?” I shook my head. “I have some news, something that will help.” I told him about my conversation with Sarah yesterday. I hoped he would tell me the information I needed right away. But instead, he wrinkled his forehead and frowned. “We didn’t say any name during the . . . happening. I don’t remember one, anyway.”
“Think. This is really important. There had to be a name.” I grabbed his jacket desperately. Maybe I could wring the name out of him.
Josh shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t remember a name. Sorry.”
I heaved the air out of my lungs and let go of his jacket.
“Maybe Liz would remember,” he said.
“I’ll ask her and Ben right away. I don’t expect Brittney to know.” Though I hadn’t been there, I knew Brittney had huddled in the corner while the rest used the Ouija board to contact Grant. She wouldn’t remember anything.
“What about Amber?” Josh asked.
I couldn’t tell if it was just the lighting, but I swear his cheeks were bright pink.
“What about her?” I asked. “She wasn’t even there.”
“What does she say? She seems to know a lot about this stuff.”
“We’re doing an EVP session tomorrow,” I replied. “I won’t be at school—don’t tell anyone. Amber’s going to come over and—”
“Do you need any help?” Josh asked. “I could be there.”
How sweet. I thought about his offer. It mightbe nice to have him at my house, especially after Amber left. We’d be alone.
“I’ll talk to Amber about it,” I said.
The bell rang, and Josh and I walked to our rooms.
“How’s Cassie?” he asked.
“She’s still weird. I can’t believe Carol let her come to school today. She’s freaky.” Just then, I caught a glimpse of Cassie, standing by her locker. The locker door was open, and Cassie stood in front of it, her backpack at her feet, staring. That’s all she seemed to know how to do now—stare.
I glanced at Josh. “See what I mean?” Before I could get to her, Ben was suddenly at her side.
“Should we help?” Josh asked.
My homeroom was up the stairs. I’d be late. But Cassie was my stepsister—I guess it was my duty. “All right, come on,” I said. “Let’s be quick about it.”
“She’s just . . . staring,” Ben said when we approached.
“She’s done that a lot,” I said. Ben and Josh were with me, but I kept my distance from Cassie. She still terrified me. “I have some information that can help,” I added, “but we don’t have time now. I’ll talk to you about it in homeroom. And we should really get going.” The final bell would ring any second, and the teachers were beginning to glare at us.
“What about Cassie?” Ben asked. He put a hand on her elbow. “Cassie? Can you hear me?”
“Cassie,” I said loudly. “It’s time to go to homeroom. Homeroom—remember?”
One of the teachers, Mr. Bartlett, suddenly appeared. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” I said. “We’re all fine.”
“You kids need to get to class.”
“We know. We’re leaving.” I hated it when teachers pointed out the obvious. And they seemed to love doing it.
Josh took Mr. Bartlett’s advice and left.
“You ready, Ben?” I asked. “We don’t want to be late.”
I could feel Mr. Bartlett’s eyes on us. “What about her?” he asked.
“Her homeroom is down the hall,” I said. “Ms. Martin. She’s just taking her time this morning.”
We all turned and looked at Cassie. She still stared at her open locker, her body a stone.
“I think maybe she’s not feeling well,” I added, hoping Mr. Bartlett would go away. But he didn’t.
“She should see the nurse,” Mr. Bartlett said, matter-of-factly.
“I could take her,” Ben said.
“No, you kids get to class. I’m not writing you a pass. I’ll have your friend see the nurse. What’s her name?”
“Cassie,” Ben and I said at the same time.
“Cassie,” Mr. Bartlett repeated. “You kids can go now.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. “Come on, Ben, let’s go.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
“But—” he said, and glanced back.
“She’ll be fine,” I whispered.
“Are you sure?”
“He said he’ll have her see the nurse. He’s taking care of it, so we don’t have to worry about it.”
“Yeah, but—”
I stopped and motioned back towards Cassie. “What do you want to do, tell them the truth? Tell them what’s really going on? No one will believe us. Worse, they’ll think we’re pulling some big prank or something. We’ll all get in trouble. Is that what you want?”
“I guess not,” Ben said slowly.
“Then come on,” I said, jerking his arm again. “I have important things to talk about.”
“Like what?”
I held my finger up, telling him to wait. We ran up the stairs and scooted into homeroom, just as the final bell rang.
Mr. Lake, our homeroom teacher, raised his eyebrows at us. “Cutting it a little close today, aren’t we?”
I shrugged his comment off and slid into a front-row seat. That was my penalty for arriving so late—having to sit front and center. Ben sat in the open desk next to me. He immediately opened a notebook and started writing a note. He tilted the notebook to me, so I could read the message. What do you need to talk about?
I pulled out my own notebook. Mr. Lake was strict about talking during homeroom. He let us read or do homework or sit and stare at the wall. But he didn’t allow any talking. I thought he needed the quiet time to get the day started right.
I need to know a name, I wrote. The name of whatever’s possessing— I stopped and scratched out the last sentence. If someone found the notebook, I didn’t want them to see the strange notes I’d written. The name you used at Grant’s house, I wrote instead. I figured Ben would know what I meant.
He didn’t. Guys were clueless like that. What do you mean? he wrote.
I sighed. I was going to have to spell it all out for him. God forbid someone else read what I was writing. The ceremony to contact Grant. There was a name Gina would have used.
Ben gave me a puzzled look and shook his head. No name I remember, he wrote back.
Of course he didn’t remember. Who said this was going to be easy?
There was a name, I wrote. I was just about to underline the note for emphasis when I heard it. We all heard it. A scream. But not just any scream—some strange, inhuman scream, like an animal caught between pain and rage.
And I immediately knew who it was. Cassie.
I probably shouldn’t have left Cassie downstairs by her locker. I probably should have taken her to the nurse, or at least seen that she went to homeroom. Heck, I probably should have convinced Carol not to let her come to school today. Oh, well.
The strange scream was followed by a howl, then a man’s shout. Likely Mr. Bartlett. Then another shout, and a door slamming and some more shouting.
“What in the world is going on down there?” Mr. Lake stood and went to the open door. Our room sat right at the top of the stairs, and the shouts and voices echoed up to the steps to our class.
“Grab her!” someone shouted. Sounded like Mr. Bartlett.
“She bit me,” another voice cried. I didn’t recognize the owner.
Mr. Lake stepped into the hallway. He leaned over the railing and shouted down the steps. “Hey, do you need help down there?”
No reply. Just voices and commotion.
“Stay here,” Mr. Lake said, sticking his head into the room. “Keep the door shut, and don’t move until I get back.” Then his head disappeared and the door closed behind him.
There was a pause, then the room exploded into nervous chatter.
“What the hell was that?” “Did you hear that?” “It sounded like an animal.” “Maybe it’s an intruder.”
Ben and I stared at each other. A look of horror was plastered on his face. Probably mine, too.
“Do you think that was . . . ?” he asked.
I nodded. “Who else?”
“Should we go down there? Maybe she’s hurt.”
“It sounded more like she was doing the hurting,” I said. But a little knot had formed in my stomach. What was the Cassie-thing doing? And was Cassie aware of it? I imagined for a moment not having any control of my body, watching the things I was doing but not able to stop them. Horrible. I quickly stopped imagining. “I’m sure the teachers will take care of it,” I added. “I don’t hear anything. They probably have it under control already.”
I didn’t think it could get any worse. But it did.
A kid in the back of the room heard it first. “Hey, shut up everyone. Do you hear that?” He stood and walked to the windows, craning his neck to see.
The chatter died down, and everyone glanced in his direction.
“What is it?” “What do you hear?”
“Shh! Quiet.” The boy waved his arm wildly, gesturing at us to stop talking. I cocked my head, straining to hear what he did.
Sirens. Police sirens.
“There,” the boy said, triumphantly, “it’s the cops, man. The cops! And an ambulance. Something’s really going down.”
“Oh, my God,” I said. I felt my hand on my mouth before I even realized I put it there. My eyes turned to Ben. His jaw was clenched, his muscles twitching.
“I have to go help,” he said. He stood up so violently he knocked the desk over. It crashed to the floor, and a couple girls screamed.
“What are you doing?” “You terrified me!” “What’s the deal?”
I quickly stood up, and raced Ben to the door. “Mr. Lake said to stay here, remember?”
Ben ignored me. He reached for the door handle.
I don’t know why I wanted to stop him. But if he went out the door, I knew I would follow. And I didn’t want to see the scene downstairs. I didn’t want to see Cassie being . . . not Cassie.
I was ready to step in front of the door and block the way if I had to. But I didn’t have to.
“Look!” someone cried. Most of the kids had gathered at the window by now. “They’re bringing someone out on a stretcher.” “Who is it?” “I can’t make it out.” “It looks like a girl.” “It’s that new girl.” “It’s Cassie.”
Everyone turned and stared at Ben and me. They knew, of course, that Cassie was my stepsister. And they knew that Ben and Cassie sort of kind of liked each other. At least, they were always hanging out together.
“It’s Cassie?” I asked, trying to sound surprised and horrified. I ran to the window. The sea of kids parted, allowing me to see out. I caught a glimpse of the stretcher, just as it was lifted into the back of the ambulance. It was Cassie, all right. She was strapped to the stretcher as if they were afraid she would try to escape. She looked calm, staring up at the sky with the same blank look she’d been wearing the past two days.
I didn’t have time to react. The PA system suddenly crackled, and Principal Heinen’s voice came over the speaker. “Ashleigh Peters,” she said, pronouncing the word carefully. “Ashleigh Peters, please come to the office.” There was a brief pause, then, “Everyone else, please return to your regular classroom activities. We apologize for this morning’s interruption, but the situation has been controlled. Thank you.” The speaker went silent, but just as quickly crackled on again. “And Ashleigh Peters, please come to the office.” Great—she had to say it a third time. As if I’d forget.
I made a beeline for the door, too embarrassed to make eye contact with anyone. This incident wasn’t something they’d likely forget soon. I’m sure Cassie and I would be the talk of the school for weeks. Normally, I didn’t mind the attention. But not this kind of attention.
I dashed down the stairs, ignoring Mr. Lake when I passed him. The first floor hallway was clear, but a few police officers were still gathered by the front doors. I slowed to a walk, morphed my face into a look of boredom, and tried to look nonchalant.
I pushed open the door to the main office and stepped inside. Principal Heinen was waiting for me.
“Good morning, Ashleigh,” she said, all business-like. “Follow me, please.” She turned on her heels and strode to her private office.
I’d never been to her office before. It was nestled way in the back, off a little hallway on the left. “Come in and sit down.” She pointed to one of the chairs setting in front of her huge desk. The desk was practically empty. Only a laptop rested on one side, a cup of pencils and a paper weight lounging next to it. Principal Heinen seated herself in her chair, leaned forward, and folded her hands on the desk. I quickly sat down.
“Now, Ashleigh, I’m sure you already know about the little incident that just happened. News travels at lightning speed, and your homeroom window overlooks the parking lot.”
I swallowed and nodded. Principal Heinen always intimidated me. It maybe was her perpetual frown, or her glaring eyes, or the tight bun she twisted her hair into everyday.
“I’ve already called your mother—stepmother, Carol, and notified her. But I wanted to get some information from you about what might have incited this behavior from Cassie.”
I cleared my throat. “What kind of behavior?” I asked. It was a legitimate question—I didn’t know what Cassie had done. Still, I quickly added, “When I left her this morning she looked fine. She was at her locker.” Not exactly a lie.
Principal Heinen narrowed her eyes a moment, considering me. Then she said, “Cassie attacked Mr. Bartlett. He was trying to help her to the nurse’s office. He informed me that you said she might not be feeling well.”
“It’s possible she wasn’t,” I said weakly. “I wasn’t sure, and I had to get to class. Mr. Bartlett said he’d take care of it.”
“Yes, well, Cassie scratched Mr. Bartlett, and she bit another teacher who came to help out. She kicked both men, and broke Mr. Bartlett’s glasses.” Principal Heinen paused and shook her head. “This is uncharacteristic of Cassie. She was wild. It took three police officers to subdue her.”
“What’s going to happen to her?”
“They’re taking her to the hospital for observation.”
My first thought was Thank God, I can sleep in my own bedroom tonight.
“Your—Carol said she’d been behaving strangely this weekend, but didn’t understand why,” Principal Heinen continued. “Do you have any insight?”
Yes, I thought, she’s possessed by some evil spirit or demon who’s trying to take control of her life. But I clamped my mouth shut and shook my head. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe it’s her time of the month?” A poor excuse. Principal Heinen knew it, too.
“I honestly thought you’d help solve this mystery, Ashleigh,” she said. “I was expecting more from you.” She stared at me, as if trying to read the thoughts in my head. “Let me just come right out and ask it,” she continued. “Is Cassie doing drugs?”
“Cassie? Doing drugs?”
“It would be consistent with her behavior.”
I didn’t know what to say. Luckily, the bell saved me. “Homeroom’s over,” I said. “And I think I have a quiz first period. Can I go?”
“You’re dismissed,” she said. “But if I need you, I know where to find you.”
I didn’t know if that was a threat or a warning, but I thanked her and exited as quickly as I could.
The rest of the morning flew by, and by lunchtime the entire school knew what had happened. I slammed my lunch tray onto our usual table and said, “I wish everyone would stop staring at me. It’s not like I did anything.” I glared at a couple kids at a nearby table, and they quickly turned away.
“I thought you’d appreciate all the attention,” Liz said sarcastically.
I ignored her. I was never quite sure if Liz liked me or not. She was part of our group, so officially we were friends. But somehow she always saved her sarcastic comments for me.
Everyone else was already at the table—Ben, Josh, Liz, Brittney, and me. Only Cassie was missing.
“Isn’t it just awful what happened?” Brittney said in her whiny voice. “I can’t believe Cassie did all those things.”
“She didn’t really do them,” Ben said. “It’s not her. She doesn’t have control of her actions.”
“All right, guys, I need your help,” I said, changing the subject. I wanted to get down to business. I twirled some spaghetti onto my fork and took a bite before continuing. “I’ve already talked to Ben and Josh, and they can’t remember,” I said, glancing at Liz. “I need to know the name of that spirit you guys conjured in the woods.”
Liz stared at me blankly. “Name?”
“During that little ceremony you guys did to contact Grant with the Ouija board.”
Liz looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer would be written there. “I don’t remember a name,” she said slowly.
Exactly what I was afraid of. Liz had been my last hope. “There had to be,” I said, exasperated. “Think.”
“I remember some words about seeing beyond and crossing the border—it was some chant she said. But I don’t remember a name.”
“There is one,” I said firmly. “Sarah told me.”
“Sarah?”
“The lady at the Blue Moon, remember her?”
“I remember,” Liz said.
“I saw her yesterday. Explained what happened. She said this Malitus thing was in the woods and—” I stopped, frustrated. I suddenly remembered that Sarah had said the Malitus might have been there longer—even before Gina and the others. In that case, who knew what its name was?
“Are you sure none of you remember a name?” I asked, turning to look at each one. “It won’t be something like Bob or Jim. It would be different, like—” I paused, trying to think of an appropriate name for a demon-spirit. “Marbaras.” I shrugged. It sounded legit.
“I honestly don’t remember anything,” Liz said. “But maybe—” She narrowed her eyes and bit her lip. “Maybe we could stop at Gina’s house after school. I sometimes visit her parents, and I haven’t stopped there in a while. You could sneak into her bedroom and look for the name. Maybe she wrote it down somewhere.”
“Do you think it would still be around? I mean, wouldn’t her parents have thrown her papers away?”
Liz shook her head. “They haven’t touched her room since—since she died.”
I nodded. I understood. After Mom died, it took Dad two years to clean her closet out. Even then, I took some of her clothes and kept them.
“I’ll call my dad and tell him I’ll be late,” I said.
I turned to Josh. “Mind giving me a ride home?”
“Sure,” he replied.
“Good,” I said. “It’s all settled. Liz and I will meet after school, go to Gina’s, and find the name.”
I hoped it was as easy as that.
Liz biked to school every day. Even in the winter. She was one of those crazy people riding on the snowy streets, all bundled up, trying not to slide on the ice.
I stood on the front steps of school, waiting for her. Kids filed out the door, pouring into buses or walking to their cars. A few glanced my way. I ignored them and wished Liz would hurry. I checked my phone, but still no message from Dad. I’d called him after lunch, letting him know I’d be home late. But he’d never called back. I was dying to know about Cassie.
“There you are,” I said, suddenly spotting Liz coming out the door.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Is Gina’s house far?”
“It’s three blocks away. Can you manage it?”
I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I just wanted to punch Liz in the face. “Can you not do that right now?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“Be all snotty with me. I’m sick of it.” I felt like standing up for myself today.
“I was just kidding,” Liz said.
“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.” I followed Liz down the steps and waited as she unlocked her bike from the rack. She hooked her backpack to the handle bars and walked it down the sidewalk.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked.
“Gina’s mom should be home. She works part time at the bakery and she’s usually done at noon. I think I’ll introduce you, talk to her a bit, then you can excuse yourself and go to the bathroom. Gina’s bedroom is right next door.”
“So I’ll have, what, maybe two or three minutes to look? Not a long time.”
“Maybe you can say you’re not feeling well.”
“Still, that’s not going to give me a lot of time.”
“Gina has a desk in her bedroom. If she had any important papers, they would be there.”
“Did she keep a diary?”
“I don’t think so. She wasn’t the diary type.”
I didn’t know what the diary-type was, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t keep a diary, and, as far as I could tell, Cassie didn’t either.
We walked in silence the rest of the way. The fallen leaves scratched and scraped along the sidewalk, and a few jack o’lanterns watched us from front stoops.
“Here we are,” Liz said, turning up a walkway. It led to a white, box-like, one-and-a-half-storey house, almost identical to every other house on the block. She dropped her bike in the grass and climbed up the front steps. “Ready?” she asked. I nodded, and she rang the doorbell.
It didn’t take long for the door to open. “Liz, I thought that was you.” A woman stood in the doorway. Gina’s mother was younger than I thought. She was petite, with pixie-cut, black hair and green eyes.
“Hi, Mrs. Arnolds.” Liz gave the woman a long hug.
“I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s the school year going?”
“Good. I have Mrs. Lane for homeroom.”
“I’ve heard she’s very nice.”
“She is.” Liz turned to me. “This is my friend, Ashleigh. She’s new this year. She—she moved into Grant’s old place.”
Something flashed across Mrs. Arnolds’ face—sadness, maybe. But it only lasted a moment. “Welcome, Ashleigh,” she said. “Come in, girls, tell me about school.”
We settled into the living room, Mrs. Arnolds on the chair and Liz and me on the couch. I listened as they discussed school, the bakery, and Liz’s job at Pete’s Pizza Parlor. I waited almost ten minutes before grabbing my stomach. “I’m suddenly not feeling so well,” I said. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?”
“No problem,” Mrs. Arnolds said. “But you’ll have to use the one in the basement. The one up here isn’t flushing.”
Uh-oh. I glanced at Liz, wondering what to do.
Liz quickly stood. “Um, Mrs. Arnold, I was wondering if you’d finished painting Aiden’s room yet.”
“Yes, I did,” she said, smiling brightly. “Didn’t I show you?”
“No. I’d love to see it.”
“Sure.” Mrs. Arnolds stood and led Liz to the stairs going up. “Oh, Ashleigh, the basement stairs are by the kitchen.”
“Thanks,” I said, and walked in the direction of the kitchen. I caught Liz’s eye and she winked at me.
As soon as they were up the stairs, I doubled back and tiptoed down the hall. Liz said Gina’s room was next to the bathroom. I found the bathroom, and the door next to it was closed. Must be Gina’s. I turned the knob and cracked the door open.
I wasn’t expecting what I found. The bedroom looked like it belonged to a little girl. And Gina had been gone for, what? A year and a half or so? The bed was decorated with a pink and yellow quilt, a pink canopy covered the top. Statues of unicorns and fairies sat on her bookshelf and a poster of a castle was pinned to the wall.
I didn’t have time to wonder at Gina’s décor. I had a name to find. I stepped over to the desk. The top was clear, so I opened drawers. I rifled through trinkets and pens and makeup and odd and ends, aware that I was snooping through a dead girl’s belongings. Yes, I was a little creeped out. “Come on, where are you?” I muttered. I unfolded pieces of paper, but they didn’t have any names, just reminders or homework assignments or even a love note to Grant.
I still had one more drawer to look through, but I heard footsteps on the stairs. Liz and Mrs. Arnold were coming down already. I opened the drawer, grabbed all the pieces of paper I could find, and stuffed them in my pockets. Horrible, I know, but I was desperate.
I stepped back across the floor and stuck my head into the hallway. Clear—but I heard voices from the kitchen. I ducked into the bathroom, took some toilet paper, and walked out into the living room, pretending to blow my nose. “Sorry, I had to grab some tissues,” I said when I saw Mrs. Arnold.
“No problem.”
Liz raised her eyebrows at me, and I gave her a slight nod of my head. The deed was done. I just hoped one of the papers in my pocket had a name written on it.
“We should probably get going,” Liz said. “I have to help Mom with supper.”
“Of course,” said Mrs. Arnolds. “It was so nice to see you again.” She gave Liz another hug. “And nice to meet you, Ashleigh,” she added, shaking my hand.
“You too,” I replied. But I couldn’t meet her eyes. I felt terrible stealing her daughter’s papers. I’ll find a way to get them back, I told myself.
As soon as we were outside, Liz looked at me expectantly. “Well? Find anything?”
“No. But I wasn’t able to get through all her things. I took some papers from the last drawer.”
“You took her stuff?”
“I know, I know, but what was I supposed to do? We need to help Cassie,” I reminded her.
I waited until we were a safe distance away before taking the notes out of my pocket. We stopped on the corner and looked through each paper, front and back. There were seven total. A recipe on the first, a poem on the second, a grocery list on the third, a to-do list on the fourth. “Did she save everything?” I asked.
The fifth and sixth had phone numbers jotted on them. Finally, the last paper had something.
“This looks promising,” I said. “Abrazo, abrazas, abraza, abrazamos, abrazan,” I read. “Do you think they’re names? What do you think it means?”
Liz giggled. “I think it means Gina was doing her Spanish homework,” she said. “Those are Spanish verbs.”
“Great,” I said. “Just great.”
Liz grabbed the papers from my hand. “I’ll take them,” she said. “I’ll slip them back next time I visit.”
“Well, that was worthless. A complete waste of time.”
“Maybe not,” Liz said.
“What do you mean?”
“While we were upstairs, I talked with Mrs. Arnolds about Gina, just for a minute or two. She told me that Gina’s aunt, Mrs. Arnolds’ sister, first gave Gina the idea about contacting Grant.”
“You mean, Gina’s mom knew about the ceremony?”
“Not exactly. But she figured that’s why Gina was at Grant’s the night she . . .” Liz trailed off, not finishing the sentence. “Anyway, Gina’s aunt told her about using a Ouija board, and gave her a chant to say. I don’t think there was anything about a name.”
“Maybe you can call the aunt and find out?”
“I can try. She lives in town. But . . . I’ll have to think of a good excuse to ask her about it. I mean, we weren’t with Gina that night, remember?”
I nodded. Liz and the others had left Gina that night, dead in the woods. They’d been scared, and didn’t want to get blamed for what happened. Only Cassie and I knew they had been there.
“You ask the aunt, and I’ll talk with Amber,” I said. “She might know something.” I thought I saw Liz roll her eyes, but I couldn’t be sure. We were almost back at the school. I texted Josh to let him know I was back. He told me he’d be inside, studying in the library.
“Let me know if you find anything,” I said, and waved goodbye to Liz. Josh came out a few moments later, and we walked to his car. I told him what happened at Gina’s, and what Liz had just shared with me.
As we drove down the highway I started to think about Dad. He still hadn’t called me. Josh pulled into our long, gravel driveway, and as we neared the house I became more and more nervous. Neither Dad’s nor Carol’s car was parked outside. “It looks like they’re gone,” I said. But I saw a note taped to the front door of the house.
I climbed out of the car, Josh behind me. I snatched the note off the door and opened it.
Ash—Got your message. Picked up Andie and took her with me. At hospital with Carol. Will be back later tonight.
“Great,” I said. “I’m alone.” I hated being out here in the middle of the country with a creepy woods in the backyard. I glanced at Josh. “Feel like staying around for a bit?”
Josh wavered. “I don’t know,” he said. “My mom’s expecting me back for dinner.”
“I can make you dinner. We have frozen pizza.” I took Josh’s shirt and pulled it. Josh was major shy. He needed a little prodding.
My phone suddenly rang. I glanced at it. “It’s Amber,” I said.
Josh’s eyes raised with interest. I remember he wanted to come tomorrow for the EVP stuff.
“What’s up?” I asked, answering the phone.
“Everyting set for tomorrow?” Amber asked. “I’m totally psyched.”
“Yeah, hey, listen. Josh wondered if he could come too,” I said.
“Josh? Of course. He’s a babe.”
“I know, right?” I figured Amber wouldn’t mind. If there was a guy I liked, she’d help me out. Not that she knew I liked Josh—I hadn’t told her yet. But, hopefully, now she had a clue.
I nodded at Josh and mouthed, “She said yes.”
Josh smiled and jumped off the steps. “See you tomorrow,” he said and walked to his car.
“Hey, wait, I thought you were going to—” But he slammed the car door and sped down the driveway before I could finish. His shyness would have been cute if it wasn’t so annoying. Too shy even to stay to dinner with me. But tomorrow would be our day.
Amber was still yakking in my ear about EVPs and ghost voices. But she broke off and said she had to go.
So, suddenly I was alone, in the middle of nowhere, in the darkening night, surrounded by woods. I flew into the house and shut the door.
I popped the frozen pizza in the oven, and ate it in the living room while I watched TV. Then I walked up to my bedroom. I wanted to think about tomorrow. I wanted to plan. I lay on my bed and considered that in a matter of hours Josh would be in my bedroom. And after Amber left I’d have him to myself. Dare I hope for a kiss?
I shivered, but not because of the thought of kissing Josh. A cold had suddenly crept in, like an icy hand stroking my bare arm. I shuddered. I reached for my covers, wanting to pull them around my shoulders, but I froze. A pair of feet stood next to my bed. A pair of feet under a flowing white nightgown, worn by a girl with long dark hair. She was back.
My heart hammered in my chest. It was the only part of me that moved. I was paralyzed, my hand in midair, halfway to the covers.
The girl walked—no, she floated—to the closet. And then she stopped. She turned and looked back at me. Except her face was gone. Two dark holes gaped where her eyes should have been, and her nose and mouth were shapeless blobs. She stared at me for a moment, then disappeared into the closet.
I was too terrified to scream. But not too terrified to move. I grabbed my pillow and ran across the room to the door. No way I was sleeping in my bed tonight. Probably another sleepless night on the bathroom floor. Of course, it had to be that way. First I couldn’t sleep in my room because of Cassie, now I was being kicked out because of a ghost. Nice.
I headed for the living room. Television could take my mind off what I saw. I didn’t want to think about it. If I told Amber she’d want me to go back up there and try to contact it and find out what it wanted. Forget that.
I lay on the couch and turned on the TV to reruns of Friends. Perfect. Ross and Rachel arguing about being on a break, and Joey being a dork, as always. I closed my eyes, and soon was dreaming about two sisters, and a boy, and something terrible at the pond in the woods.
“Ash?” A hand shook my arm. “Ash?” Dad’s voice.
“Hmm? What?” I opened my eyes. It was light outside. Morning. I’d slept on the couch all night. But why did I feel like I had been drowning? I tried to grab at a fleeting image from a dream, but too late.
“It’s time to get up,” Dad said. “You have to get ready for school.”
“I’m coming,” I said. I sat up, blinked my eyes a few times to get used to the light, and pushed my hair off my face. Another day of school. Except . . . something told me I wasn’t supposed to go to school today. What was it? That’s right—Amber. And Josh. They were coming today. “Ooohhh,” I groaned, holding my stomach. I flopped back onto the cushions. “I don’t feel so well.”
“What is it?” Dad was in the kitchen, and rushed back into the living room. “Are you okay?” His eyes were open wide. “Do we need to take you to the hospital?”
“Dad, stop freaking out. My stomach just hurts, that’s all.”
Dad ran his hand through his hair and breathed out heavily. “Sorry. It’s just . . . what’s been happening with Cassie . . . I just want to make sure the same doesn’t happen with you.”
“What has been happening with Cassie? She’s at the hospital?”
Dad nodded. “She’s in the psych ward. The doctors think she’s suffering from a dissociative disorder or a psychosis. They’re still doing some tests.”
“When will she be home?”
“Not sure. She’s there for at least seventy-two hours. But she’ll probably stay longer. Doctors want to monitor her and see what medications might stabilize her.”
Medication. If only that would help.
“Carol is in St. Cloud. I’m going back to the hospital and Carol and I will come home later.”
“That’s fine,” I said, waving my hand. “Is it all right if I stay home from school today?” I crossed my arms in front of my stomach and doubled over, pretending to have a cramp.
“Do you need me to write a note?”
“No, just call the school.”
“I’ll call on the way. I’m dropping Andie off and then heading to St. Cloud. Andie will come home on the bus.” Dad opened his wallet and took out some money. “Can you order pizza for supper?”
I nodded and took the money, shoving it into my pocket.
“What time will you be back?” I wanted to know how much time I’d have with Josh.
“Late. Don’t wait up.”
Don’t wait up? Perfect. As long as Andie kept her mouth shut, Josh and I could have the day together.
Dad leaned over and pecked me on the top of my head. “Get some rest,” he said.
“I will.”
I waited until he and Andie left before I pulled my phone out and texted Amber and Josh. House is empty. Come when you can.
“Be there soon,” Josh texted.
On my way, Amber wrote.
I’d learned that “on my way” could mean anything to Amber. It could mean that she was actually in the car, on her way here. Or it could mean that she was in bed and thinking about when she should leave. It must have been somewhere in between, because an hour later she was on the doorstep. I had been hoping Josh would show up first, but he arrived fifteen minutes later.
Amber held up a small digital recorder and wiggled it back and forth. “Are you ready for this?”
“How does this work again?” I asked.
“We go up in your bedroom, where you saw the ghost, and we ask her some questions. We record it, and when we play it back, hopefully she’ll have spoken to us.”
“So why can the recorder hear the voice and we can’t?” Josh asked.
“It’s complicated. It has to do with electricity and sound wavelengths and stuff. It’s totally technical.”
I knew that was Amber’s way of saying she didn’t know.
But Josh looked impressed. “Wow, you really know a lot about this stuff.”
“I’ve been training with professionals since I was ten,” Amber replied. She and Josh started up the stairs together, side by side.
“Who taught you?” Josh asked.
“Oh, this guy—”
“I saw her again last night,” I interrupted. I scooted up the stairs behind them and grabbed Amber’s hand. Then I pulled her ahead of Josh with me.
“You did?” Amber said. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“It wasn’t a big deal, really,” I said, and shrugged. I pretended like seeing a ghost was a daily experience. I didn’t tell them about spending the night on the couch.
“What did she do? How did she act?”
“Same as the first time. She just . . . walked to the closet. Walked through the closet.” I shivered again, thinking about it.
We climbed up the rest of the stairs, and I told Amber about what happened with Cassie at school yesterday, and her being in the hospital.
“Of course they’d think she’s psychotic,” Amber said. “They don’t believe in ghosts and demons and the supernatural because they don’t want to believe. It would totally mess with their worldview.”
Amber stood in the middle of my bedroom and looked around the room. “Now, where exactly did you first see the ghost?”
“Here,” I said, standing next to my bed.
“And it walked this way,” Amber said, pointing to the closet.
I nodded. I walked across the floor, following the ghost’s path, and stopped in front of the closet doors. “Last night she turned and looked back at me. And then she just disappeared into the closet.”
‘Whoa,” Amber said. “You never told me she looked at you.”
“Yeah . . . what does it mean?”
“It means she’s actively trying to communicate with you.” Amber sat on my bed and rubbed her arms. “Some ghosts are like recordings. They show up in the same spot, do the same routine, then disappear in the same way each time. It’s like a video replaying over and over. But other ghosts can interact with people. Communicate with them, stuff like that. That’s the kind of ghost we have here.”
“You know that just because she looked at me?”
Amber ignored my question. “Let’s sit here, in front of the closet.” She stood and walked to the closet doors. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “I can feel a slight presence. I think this will work.”
Josh, Amber, and I sat down, forming a triangle. Amber pressed the recorder on, then placed it between us.
“This is Amber, Ashleigh, and Josh, and we are doing an EVP session in Ashleigh’s bedroom,” she said loudly. Then she added in a whisper, “I always do that at the beginning for when I listen to it later. Are you ready?”
“Let’s do this.” In truth, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear a ghost’s voice on a recorder. What would it sound like?
Amber cleared her throat, then said in an authoritative tone, “My name is Amber. My friends Ashleigh and Josh are with me. We mean you no harm.” She paused for a moment, then continued. “What is your name?” She waited at least ten seconds, giving time for a response. Then she went on. “What do you want?” “How can we help you?” “What message do you have for us?”
After each question, Amber waited before asking the next one. After the last question she picked up the recorder and turned it off.
“That’s it?” I asked. It had only taken a few minutes.
“We need to see if the ghost talked. The spirit may not be here yet. I’m not going to ask questions if she’s not here.”
Amber pressed the play button, and turned the volume all the way up. Some background static sounded, then Amber’s voice came on. I tilted my head and listened carefully, straining to hear. But there was only silence in the pauses between the questions. I raised my eyebrows at Amber.
She shook her head. “We’ll try it again,” she said.
“I know you can do it,” Josh said confidently.
Amber flashed him a smile.
Amber turned the recorder on, and she asked the same questions she did before. But still nothing.
“How many times will we have to do this?” I asked. Already I was getting bored.
“As many times as it takes. It has to work.”
“How long does it usually take?” I asked.
Amber shrugged.
“Haven’t you ever done this before?”
“Sure, lots of times, with Mom and Doctor Barry.”
“But never by yourself.”
Amber didn’t have to answer. I knew the truth.
“Let me try something else,” she said.
The “something else” was her mumbling and chanting and throwing her arms out and turning in circles and just acting weird. If Cassie were here—and if she were herself—she’d have rolled her eyes out of her head by now. But Josh still seemed impressed by everything.
“All right. That should do it.” Amber nodded and turned the recorder back on. “We are here in peace,” she said. “We just want to speak with you. We want to help you. We know you want to communicate something to us. So let us hear you. What is your name?” Pause. “What do you want?” Pause. “How can we help you?” Pause.
Amber stopped, and pressed the play button. “Here we go,” she said, and rubbed her hands together. Her voice sounded on the machine. “What is your name?” Pause . . . nothing. “What do you want?” Pause . . . .nothing. “How can we help you?” Pause . . . wait. Did I hear something?
“I can’t believe it’s not working,” Amber said.
“No, play it again. I think—”
“No way, you didn’t!” Amber squealed. “You heard something?”
“I’m not sure,” I said impatiently. “Just play it again.”
Amber and Josh scooted closer to me, and Amber put the recorder between all our heads, turning the volume all the way up. And I definitely heard it this time. An eerie, raspy, whispery voice, not much louder than the background noise on the recorder. It said one word. “Closet.”
Goose bumps exploded on my arm. Something was in the room with us. Something that just spoke into the recorder with a voice that sounded like death. And Amber was ecstatic. Josh looked enthused, too.
“Omigod, omigod, omigod. I can’t believe this is actually happening.” Amber got up on her knees and pushed the record button. “What is your name?” she said loudly. And a little too excitedly. “What do you want us to find in the closet?”
I glanced around the room, a chill creeping down my spine. I would never sleep in here again, not after what I just heard. Maybe Andie would switch bedrooms with me. I watched Amber, wondering why she wasn’t more creeped out. Probably because this wasn’t her house.
“Shh,” she said, even though I wasn’t talking. She held the recorder to her ear. “I don’t hear anything. Do you?”
I listened to the silence after her questions, glad I didn’t hear a voice this time. I shook my head.
“I don’t hear anything,” Josh said. “Sorry.”
“I’ll try again,” Amber said.
“Wait.” I put my hand on her arm. “Maybe we should just look in the closet. I mean, that’s what the voice said, right?” In truth, I didn’t want Amber to try again. I didn’t want to hear any more ghost voices in my room. My arms were still covered in goose bumps.
“Okay. You check the closet, and Josh and I will keep trying to make contact.”
That wasn’t what I had in mind. The last thing I wanted to do was open the closet doors alone. How did I know something wasn’t waiting on the other side of the doors, ready to pop out at me, freaking me out?
“Can’t Josh help me check the closet?” I asked, fully aware I sounded like a wimp.
“Now is not the time to be scared, Ashleigh. This is totally my moment. I need Josh here with me!”
I didn’t know why she needed Josh with her. But I stood and announced, “I’m not scared.” I walked to the closet doors, just to prove I wasn’t. I took a deep breath. Just throw them open, I told myself. Do it quick and get it over with. I closed my eyes, grabbed the handles, and yanked the doors open. I didn’t hear anything. Tentatively, I opened one eye, then the other. Nothing. Just our clothes and shoes and some boxes of Cassie’s books.
“There’s nothing here,” I said.
“Shh!” Amber shushed me again.
I gently shut the closet doors and joined Amber back on the floor. She asked questions, over and over, recording and playing, listening for a voice. I had to give her credit, she didn’t like to give up. But after half an hour of trying and only getting silence, she finally stood up and shoved the recorder into her pocket. “This is a waste of time,” she said. “Obviously this spirit is just trying to play games with me.”
I didn’t think that was the obvious conclusion, but I didn’t say so. “Now what?” I asked.
“I’m taking this recording to Dr. Barry. He has some equipment that can enhance the electrical signals. There might be more of a message on here.” She opened the bedroom door and started down the steps.
“Do you need any help with that?” Josh asked. “I could follow you to St. Cloud.’
Amber paused on the stairs and turned, looking Josh up and down. “Sure, you can come.”
Josh wanted to go with Amber to St. Cloud to enhance electrical signals with Dr. Barry? What was going on?
“Do you want me to come with?” I asked, scrambling down the stairs after them. “Josh and I could ride together.”
“My mom doesn’t let me have passengers on the highway,” Josh said.
“Then I’ll ride with Amber,” I said.
“That’s okay,” Amber said. “Josh and I can handle it.
“But—” I stood in the kitchen, thinking of something to say. Here I had planned to spend the rest of the day with Josh, and he wanted to do more ghost investigating. Plus, I didn’t really want to be in the house alone. Not after what I heard upstairs.
“I’ll text you later, let you know what we find,” Amber said. She wrapped her arms arond me and gave me a squeeze. “I still can’t believe this worked!” she added.
And before I could think of a reason to join them, they were both out the door, Amber getting into her car and Josh into his. They drove away, Josh following Amber down the long driveway.
And, suddenly, I was alone. In the middle of nowhere.
Probably with a ghost.
I texted Amber. Like ten times. It was almost five o’clock in the evening, and she still hadn’t texted me back yet. I tried texting Josh too, only five times, though. No reply from him, either. I had a very bad feeling in my stomach.
“What are we eating for supper?” Andie asked.
I sat on the couch, staring at my phone, willing Amber or Josh to text me.
“I can order pizza,” I said. “My dad left some money.”
“Then order it. I’m hungry.”
“How about you do it? I’m busy.” I didn’t want to take my eyes off my phone, not even for a second. Every minute that passed by, the sick feeling in my stomach got worse and worse. What were the two of them doing? I didn’t have to wait too much longer for a reply. At exactly 5:49, just when I was shoving a bite of pizza in my mouth, my phone beeped. A text from Amber.
Guess what?!? Josh took me out to dinner and he KISSED ME!!!!
I almost choked on the piece of pizza in my mouth.
“Are you okay?” Andie asked.
I grabbed a can of pop and took a gulp. “I’m fine,” I gasped, coughing the rest of the pizza out of my lungs.
But I wasn’t fine. I was anything except fine. Josh took Amber out . . . and he . . . he . . . I couldn’t even think it. My heart slowly sank in my chest, and the rest of my body caved in along with it. My eyes tingled, and I turned my head away so Andie wouldn’t see my tears. “I’m actually still not feeling that well,” I said. “I’m going to go upstairs and lie down.” I tossed the rest of my pizza into the box, and scooted up the stairs where I could sob into my pillow in the privacy of my bedroom.
My phone beeped again, just as I threw myself onto my bed and started letting the tears flow. U there? Amber wrote.
I turned the phone off and shoved it into the nightstand drawer. I flipped myself onto my back and stared at the ceiling. How could I have been so stupid? Here all along I thought Josh was interested in me, but really he was just getting close to me so he could get close to Amber.
I didn’t even get a chance to have a good cry about it. Someone knocked on the door, and then Carol’s voice sounded. “Ashleigh? Are you in there?”
I angrily wiped my tears off my cheeks. She must have just gotten home. “I’m here,” I huffed. “What is it?”
Carol opened the door and poked her head in. “Are you okay? Andie said you were crying.”
Andie. I couldn’t hide anything from her.
“It’s nothing,” I said. I grabbed a magazine and held it in front of my face, pretending to suddenly be interested in “Four Fabulous Fashion Tips for Winter!”
Usually that would be enough for Carol to leave me alone. But not tonight. She walked into the room and sat on my bed. She’d never sat on my bed before.
“Your dad will be home later,” she said. “He had some things to finish at work. We saw Cassie at the hospital today. She’s the same as she has been.”
I nodded.
Carol glanced around the room, then settled her eyes on my face again.“Ashleigh,” she said gently, “if there’s anything going on in your life, I want you to know you can share with me. I’m not your mother, and I’m not trying to replace her, but that doesn’t mean you and I can’t have a relationship with each other.”
Normally I would have rolled my eyes and said, “Whatever.” But something made me open my mouth this time. Maybe because I couldn’t talk to Amber about this. Whatever the reason, before I knew it, I had blurted out, “It’s about boys.”
Carol gave me a pleased smile. She probably wasn’t expecting me to actually open up to her. “Ah.” She nodded her head knowingly. “Boys. I remember liking a boy in high school. I had a huge crush on him. But he asked my friend Lynn to the prom instead of me.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
Carol shrugged. “Nothing,” she said. She sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. “No boy is worth crying too much over. There’s lots of other boys out there. I soon found another boy to like.” She patted my leg. “You’ll find one, too. Move on and find someone else—that’s the best thing to do. Otherwise we end up doing crazy things.”
Find someone else—easy enough for her to say. Still, I mumbled a “thank you” and gave her a smile before she left. Carol wasn’t so bad, really. Not the evil stepmom type, at least.
I flipped through the magazine, trying not to think about Josh and Amber. I tried to think about other cute boys at school instead. There was a boy named Taylor, he was super-cute. And a senior in my math class named Aaron. I was thinking about how to get Aaron to notice me when it happened. The room suddenly got cold. Freezing. I knew what it meant.
The ghost was back.
All my thinking of Josh and Amber and boys had made me forget what happened earlier today. But now it all came crashing back to me. The voice on the recorder. It belonged to the woman standing near me now. Her long, white nightgown swirled around her in a mist. Her black, gaping eye holes stared at me from a shapeless face.
I pressed myself against the headboard. “Go away,” I whispered. I closed my eyes, and chanted louder, “Go away, go away, go away.”
But when I opened my eyes, she was still there, black, fiery eyes burning into me. She moved towards the closet, her nightgown billowing around her. When she reached the closet she stopped and turned, looking back at me. Then she disappeared through the closet doors.
I should have jumped off the bed and run downstairs. But something possessed me. I got up and slowly walked towards the closet doors. And just as slowly, I opened them.
Nothing. Nothing except my things and Cassie’s things. But I was still compelled to look.
There had to be something important about the closet. Three times I’d seen her go in there. And that’s the only word she’d said on the recorder. Amber would say, “She’s totally trying to communicate with you.” I had to find out what she wanted.
I moved aside the clothing on hangers, piece by piece. Nothing. I pushed on the back wall. Nothing. I stomped on the floor boards. Nothing. Finally, I moved aside Cassie’s box of books in the back corner. And one of the floorboards rattled and creaked. Bingo.
I crawled on my hand and knees and stuck my fingers in the crack between the boards. There was barely space to get just the tips wedged in. I lifted. The board didn’t budge. I was probably crazy, but I knew there was something under that floor board. Call it instinct. Amber would be proud of me. Not that I cared what she thought right now. I was too mad at her about Josh.
I wiggled and jiggled the board, but it wouldn’t move. Time to get the hammer. I was down the stairs and back in my room in a minute, without Andie or Carol seeing me. I pushed the claw end into the crack, and heaved up as hard as I could. And fell backwards. But at least the floor board flipped up.
I crawled to the opening, my heart pounding. This was it—the moment that determined if I was crazy to rip up the floor, or if the ghost had repeatedly gone in to my closet for a reason. I peeked in, trying to see in the dimness of the closet corner. I wasn’t disappointed. Something small and rectangle-shaped was wrapped in a cloth. I lifted it out and replaced the board. I backed out of the closet and settled onto my bed. Then I gently lifted one end of the cloth and peeled it away.
A book lay inside. A book with a leather cover. I ran my fingers along the front, feeling the smoothness of the worn leather. I opened it, and on the inside cover a name had been scrawled in old-fashioned handwriting. Elizabeth Ann Manning. On the first page I saw a date and an entry. This wasn’t a book. It was a diary.
A slight breeze suddenly touched my face, and the pages moved, as if someone were flipping through them. They stopped halfway through the diary. In beautiful looping handwriting, the date on the top had been written: July 15, 1911.
I started to read.
Elizabeth
July 15, 1911
I have written this many times, and today I will write it again. Joseph Turner is the most handsome man I have ever laid my eyes on. Handsomer than any man in the county, or certainly in the entire state. Aunt Edith says he will marry Anna or me. I know it will be me. It has to be, and I told Papa so. Anna doesn’t appear to be interested in men yet, but even I have seen the way she looks at Joseph. All the girls look at him that way. But he will be mine. I will do anything to have him. Elizabeth Manning Turner will be my name. Or better, Mrs. Joseph Turner. I do like how that sounds. Mrs. Joseph Turner.
I closed my journal and placed it in the drawer of my desk. Then I stood and gently pulled back the lace curtains on the window. The sun beat down, almost directly overhead. It was noon, and Joseph would be working in the fields. If I was lucky I would catch a glimpse of him: broad shoulders, shirt clinging to his back, dark curls falling into his eyes. Sometimes he rolled up the sleeves of his long white cotton shirts, and I could see his smooth, tanned arms all the way to his elbows. But I was unlucky today. I didn’t see him anywhere, though I lingered at the window for a few minutes.
I descended the stairs into the kitchen. Anna was making bread, her arms working a lump of dough on the table. “It’s too hot to be baking,” I said. It was the middle of July, a July that had been hotter than any I could remember. I had overheard Joseph and Papa talking about how the wheat and corn were badly in need of water.
“We need more bread,” Anna replied matter-of-factly, wiping sweat from her forehead and looking apologetic. “Papa and Joseph have large appetites. And the Meyers need food.”
“So we have to supply it for them? We don’t need to feed the entire county, Anna.”
“Not the entire county. Just the Meyers.”
“You could have waited until evening.”
“You’re right,” Anna nodded, head down. “I’m sorry.”
I sighed. My younger sister—so easy to please others, always trying to be agreeable, always doing what others wanted. “I will take Joseph his lunch today,” I said. Sausage and thick slices of bread waited on the table.
“I don’t mind doing it,” Anna said shyly.
“I’ll be glad to.” I took a towel from a drawer and quickly wrapped it around the food. “Joseph will be expecting me. He likes it when I bring him his lunch.” I slipped out the door before she could protest.
A woods stretched behind our house, and I glanced at the cool shade between the trees. Papa never wanted to clear that land for farming. He said Mama loved trees. He even planted more, rows of little trees only waist high. One day the house would be almost completely surrounded. Hidden deep in the woods was a small lake, a very small lake. But it was deep and cool and refreshing. Perfect for a day like today. Maybe later I would strip my dress off and go swimming.
For now, I wiped the sweat off my neck and picked my way across the dirt, being careful not to get too much dust on my shoes. Joseph stood in the shade of the oak tree near the edge of the cornfield, waiting for me. His stomach probably told him it was mealtime. His white shirt was damp with sweat, and it clung to his wide chest and strong arms. I had seen him without his shirt on, once. I had peeked through the barn, where he had a bed in the hayloft. Seeing his naked skin had given me shivers.
Joseph was our hired hand. He’d been with us since March, ever since Papa’s illness. Papa was too weak, so Joseph did all the farm work. But it wouldn’t be proper for him to sleep in the house with two unmarried girls—that’s what Aunt Edith said. So Joseph slept in the barn, but he took his supper with us every night.
“I’ve brought your lunch for you, Joseph.” I smiled at him, and handed him the bundle of food.
“Thank you.” He smiled back, the wide grin that always made my stomach flutter.
“Will you take your supper with us this evening?”
“As always. Are you doing the cooking tonight?”
“As always,” I replied, and laughed. Anna did most of the cooking and the baking, and both of us knew that. I helped when I could, but Anna preferred to be in the kitchen, and I preferred not to be. I talked and read to Papa, for he often had to lay in bed and rest.
Joseph sat in the shade under the large oak, and opened the bundle of food. “Your sister makes good bread,” he said, taking a large bite.
“It was our mother’s recipe.” I paused for a moment, remembering our mother. Anna couldn’t remember her, for Mama had died when Anna was only three. But I had been five, and a few memories of Mama still lingered in my mind. The sweet smell of bread on her apron when I gave her a hug, the firm touch of her hands when she braided my hair, and the soft sound of her voice when she sang me to sleep. “Papa says I look like Mama. He says she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.” I pulled my long, dark hair through my fingers and glanced through my eyelashes at Joseph.
But Joseph didn’t hear me. His eyes were fixed past me, watching something behind me. I turned. Anna walked across the field, a large jug in her arms, the liquid inside splashing onto her dress with every step.
Joseph stood and hurried to Anna, taking the jug from her arms.
“You should be more careful,” I called to her. “You’ll ruin your dress.”
“It’s only water,” Anna replied. “But you’re right, I’ll be more careful next time.”
“You could have told me about the drink,” I said. “I would have brought it out for Joseph.”
“I’m sorry,” Anna said, her head down.
Joseph took a long drink and then smiled at Anna. “I thank you for the water. And the bread and sausage.”
“You’re welcome to it,” Anna replied. She lifted her head, her eyes shining, and a bit of pink crept into her cheeks.
“You should return to the kitchen,” I told her. “The bread won’t bake itself.” She was acting like a silly school girl, smiling and blushing at Joseph.
Anna nodded and turned back to the house. Joseph watched her the entire way back, and I wished my hair glowed like hers in the sunlight—long, loose, honey-colored curls. Joseph didn’t sit down again until she was in the house.
“Anna can be foolish sometimes,” I said. I moved to lean against the trunk of the tree and glanced down at Joseph beside me. “She’s still a girl. I feel like I need to act like a mother to her.”
“She’s fifteen.”
“Exactly. I’m nearer a woman than she. I’ll be eighteen in the winter. And then Papa says I can marry.”
Joseph nodded slowly, but wouldn’t meet my eyes. “And are you ready to marry and keep house for a man and children?”
“I am.”
Joseph smiled, as if he knew some secret I did not. His eyes looked to the house again. “Anna likes to be in the kitchen.”
“She does,” I agreed. But, lest Joseph think I didn’t like the kitchen, I added, “I used to do all the cooking and baking. I had to learn when I was only eight years old, when Aunt Edith stopped caring for us. I’ve spent many more days in the kitchen than Anna. And now Papa needs me. He prefers my voice to Anna’s, and wants me to read to him often.”
“You’re a good help to your father.”
“So are you,” I said. “We couldn’t manage this farm without you. Papa is glad for you. Aunt Edith never talked about it?”
“She has,” Joseph said, and took a bite of the sausage. He chewed slowly, staring at the house, and didn’t offer any more on the subject.
I knew Aunt Edith, Papa’s sister, had spoken with Joseph about the farm being his one day. His—as long as he married Anna or me. I wanted to know Joseph’s thoughts. I wanted to know if Joseph wanted the farm, and if he loved it enough to have me. I wasn’t concerned if Joseph didn’t love me. A man could learn to love a woman, in time.
Joseph finished the sausage, and wiped his hands on the towel. He stood, took a swig of water from the jug, then poured the rest over his head, running his hand through his dark curls.
I reached out my hands for the towel and jug, but Joseph shook his head. “I can walk you back to the house,” he said.
“Of course,” I said, and smiled. My heart felt like it was expanding in my chest. Joseph wanted to walk with me. He wanted to spend any time with me that he could. This was a good sign. Soon he would speak to Papa about us marrying. And when we were married he wouldn’t sleep in the barn anymore, and my bed would become his. The thought made me shiver.
“Ooh, Anna, it’s too hot in here,” I said, opening the door to the house. I turned to Joseph and said, “You see? She’s still a child. She’s not yet ready to manage a house.”
“I need the bread finished by afternoon,” Anna replied. “Mr. Arnes said he would stop by today, and I want to give him some loaves for the Meyers.”
“Then you should have made it last night. This heat will suffocate Papa.”
Joseph handed the towel and jug to Anna. “Thank you, Joseph,” she said.
“Thank you again for lunch. And it’s kind of you to think of the Meyers.”
Anna blushed openly this time, and didn’t hide her shy smile.
“I’ll see you at supper,” Anna said. “We’re having boiled potatoes, the way you like them.”
Joseph nodded, and without even a glance at me, he turned and left.
A thought crept into my head. A thought that Joseph had come to the house not to walk with me, but to see and talk with Anna again. I would have to watch him carefully at supper.
Anna moved about the kitchen, humming to herself. “Joseph said the bread was a bit stale,” I said, settling onto a chair.
“I feel sorry for him, having to work outside when it’s so hot. Do you think he has enough water? Maybe I should take him some later.”
“He gets water from the pump. He doesn’t need your help.” I often watched Joseph at the pump. He went at least every hour for a drink. I made sure to be at my window for part of the day to catch a glimpse of him. “I’m going upstairs to read to Papa, and then I want to rest. I’ll be down again for supper.”
I walked up the stairs and I sat next to the bed in Papa’s room and held his left hand—the only hand he could move, and then only with great effort.
“I’m here, Papa,” I said gently.
His mouth worked, but only a groan escaped through his lips. He had not spoken since his attack in March, though sometimes he gave me a wide open smile. He could nod and shake his head, and he appeared to understand everything I said to him.
“Should I read from Luke today?” I asked, and picked up the Bible.
Papa moved his head down slightly.
I read two pages before I stopped and took Papa’s hand again. “Papa, you will give me permission to marry Joseph won’t you? I love him more than anything. Except not more than you.”
Papa nodded his head again slowly. A tear trickled from his left eye down his cheek.
“Don’t be sad, Papa,” I said. “I will not forget you when I’ve married. I will take care of you. And Joseph will make me so happy.” I leaned over and kissed Papa on the cheek. I placed the Bible in his hands, on top of his chest where he always liked it.
“I’ll be back to feed you dinner,” I said. “Now I must rest.”
At supper I watched Joseph and Anna closely. Anna stole glances at Joseph when she thought I wasn’t looking. And Joseph’s eyes shone with a different light when his gaze met Anna’s. Why had I never noticed before?
Anna. My sister. My competition.